


The Rabble of Ravenclaw Chapter 1

by ianmw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Ravenclaw Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ianmw/pseuds/ianmw
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort, Hogwarts is under new administration. With new teachers, new classes, and new students, follow the journey of Ravenclaws, second-year Charles, Lea, and first-year Heely as they join Professor Gilly for an adventure. Discover a new way of thinking about magic, and the wizarding world as a fiendish mystery unfolds
Collections: Harry Potter





	The Rabble of Ravenclaw Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ghosts, Paintings, and Memories

The Hogwarts Express rattles onward, creeping hitherto in search of its destination. The candy lady with the wrinkled smile pushes her trolley from one train car to the next. “Anything from the--” She cuts off when she recognizes a witch in one of the rooms. “Melinda?”  
Melinda the baggy-eyed witch slides the door open and hugs her friend.  
“What're they on about?” asks Charles. He's sitting beside Lea. He has a tacky blue-and-silver scarf, while she has the hood of her sweatshirt up.  
“Has Gilly agreed to come back to work this year?” the candy lady asks.  
“Why not? With all the children in attendance these days, substitutes are always needed,” Melinda says.  
“Yes, but he takes a fair bit of time off himself. He missed most of October last year, out on 'medicinal leave.'”  
“Should I inform Professor Gilly of his secret admirer?”  
“No!”  
Charles slides the door shut, cutting off the conversation. “What a pair of loons.” His smoke-white cat stretches out on his lap.  
“I wouldn't know,” Lea says. “I didn't have Professor Gilly last year. You didn't write to me much this summer.”  
Charles shrugs. “You know I don't like writing. Besides, I was too busy.”  
A smile flashes across Lea's face, just visible through her tightened hood.  
“My hood doesn't tighten,” he complains.  
“I added mine. It's a simple spell: Hoodio Tightus.”  
He whips out his spruce wand, flicks it thrice, and says, “Hoodio—Oh, ha ha.” He rolls his eyes as she giggles.  
“I can adjust yours when we get back.”  
“Shh,” Charles says. “It's the crazy lady.”  
“Anything from the trolley?” the candy lady asks.  
“Peppermint Leeches for me,” Charles says. “A pack of beans for her.” He sits back, unboxing his leeches. It wiggles around his arm, like a bracelet.  
“Careful,” Lea says. “They--”  
“Bite, I know.” He strokes the leech, then throws the other into his mouth and lets it dissolve on his tongue. “Gray fuh breh,” he mumbles around his food. Translation: Great for breath.  
Something rummages around in Lea's sweater pocket. Her dove pokes its head out. “She's hungry.” She grasps a handful of seeds. The dove picks at them hungrily.  
“I wish Lip would eat like that,” Charles says, petting his cat. “She never eats when I want her to. Too picky.”  
“Well?” Lea asks. “Are you gonna tell me about your prank? Is that what kept you busy all summer?”  
“Perhaps. But I can't tell you what it is. It'd spoil the surprise.”  
A pause.  
Lea stares out the window at the passing fields.  
“Oh, all right, I'll tell you,” Charles says. “I just can't hold it in any longer.”  
“I thought so,” she says.  
“It'll be at dinner, like my first big prank. I came up with it on the last day of school last year. First, I'll--”  
A deep, ferocious roar resounds, followed by children's screams.  
“What the hell was that?” Charles asks, shoving Lip aside. “Move, cat!”  
There's another roar, with a faint cry of “He's harmless, I swear!”  
“Don't go out there!” Lea says.  
Charles finally wrestles free of his cat and steps into the hall. He's too short to see over the heads of the other students.  
The roars have turned to fierce growls.  
He pushes through the crowd, muttering a spell that forces two friends to part. Finally, he sees what's causing the commotion. A girl, too young to be a fellow second year, is holding a leash like her life depends on it. At the end of the leash is an animal. Not an owl, toad, or cat. A wolf! It looks to be guarding her.  
“What the f happened?” he asks a passing student.  
“Some argument,” she says. “That girl, Heely, said her mum is a chiropractor, and Thomas asked what that is. Then another boy, Randy, said it's when you bury dead people. Heely freaked out, saying all her mum does is massage people. Her wolf must have thought she was in danger, with all the shouting, so he attacked. She's mental if you ask me.”  
Charles looks over at Heely, who clearly heard the girl's story. She pulls her wolf, who has calmed down, into her room and slides the door shut. “First years,” he sighs. Then he winces as a sharp pain pierces his wrist. He pries the leech off.  
Lea gives an “I told you so” shrug.

***

The Great Hall is a clear sky, with but a single cloud moving across it, almost imperceptible in the starlight. Charles and Lea are together at a Ravenclaw table.  
“What classes do you have this year?” a third-year, Muddy, asks from across the table. “I have arithmancy.”  
“He thinks he's good at math,” the girl sitting next to him says. “I'm excited for herbology.”  
Lea looks up from her potatoes, lifting her hood enough to see who's talking. Then she kicks Charles under the table. “Over there,” she says. “Professor Gilly. He's the one they were talking about on the train.”  
Sure enough, a tall wizard is taking his place at the head table with the other professors. He has his usual jacket with all the pockets. He sets down an umbrella right beside his fork and knife, earning him a confused glance from Professor Weltar.  
“What do you suppose the umbrella's for?” Muddy asks, pointing to the enchanted ceiling. “Clear skies. What a wanker.”  
Professor Wittenshire, the headmaster, shakes each professor's hand before stepping up to the podium. She looks out rather nervously at the children. She casts a spell on her voice, amplifying it. “Welcome!”  
One of the other professors takes her by the arm and whispers something in her ear. Meanwhile, the stairs up to the podium switch places, as if hoping no one would notice.  
Just then, the first-years enter the room. They're a disorganized lot.  
“There's the girl,” Charles whispers, pointing at Heely.  
She's walking alongside her wolf, clearly searching for something. The other students give her a wide berth. “Where are the ghosts?” she asks, much too loudly. “I heard there'd be ghosts.”  
“Come to think of it, where are they?” Lea whispers.  
The caretaker, Tilda, is the only one brave enough to stand near the wolf.  
“Welcome!” Professor Wittenshire repeats. “And welcome back, to our dear friends from years previous.” She reaches within the podium, extracting the sorting hat. “First-years, as your future classmates and friends already know, there is sorting that must be done. As we speak, your house is waiting--”  
A thunderclap interrupts the headmaster. Many students scream as rain jettisons from the enchanted ceiling.  
Professor Gilly has his umbrella over his head in an instant.  
As soon as it started, it stops, leaving everyone drenched. Lea pokes a soggy potato.  
“Well,” Wittenshire says. “What a splash.” With a wave and jab of her wand, the moisture drains from everyone's clothes and hair. “The ceiling has a mind of its own. There is no predicting it.”  
Professor Gilly lowers his umbrella.  
“There will be more food, I assure you. Our chefs are working tirelessly on the next course. I remind you, they are not house elves—er, free elves, I mean.”  
The first-years start taking turns approaching the sorting hat.  
“What about your prank?” Lea whispers. “Dinner will be over soon.”  
“A few more minutes,” Charles says.  
As the next course is being brought out, Heely steps up to the front. Her wolf follows beside her.  
“Hello, dear,” Wittenshire says. “What's your name?”  
“Heely.”  
“Is that your familiar?”  
“We don't call them that here in Scotland.”  
“My apologies,” the headmaster says. “You were supposed to entrust your pets to Ms. Wefrey, the caretaker. We have places for them.”  
“Elton's place is by my side,” Heely says. “He protects me. I named him after the music legend.”  
“There is nothing to fear, Heely. Hogwarts is safe.”  
Charles notices Professor Gilly rolling his eyes.  
Reluctantly, Heely lets Tilda take the leash. Elton growls, but obeys.  
“Come, dear,” the headmaster says.  
Heely sits, wincing when the sorting hat falls on her head. It almost envelops her.  
“Hello,” the hat says. “An interesting young witch, indeed. Bold as brass, I'd say. Perhaps...no. You are a cunning witch. Rowena would be proud to have you. Ravenclaw!”  
Most of the Ravenclaws clap as she sits down.  
“Not the nutter,” a few students murmur. The head of Ravenclaw House stares them down.  
As the last few first-years are getting sorted, it begins.  
Charles grins when he sees the first ghost rise from the floor. He rests a hand on Lea's and whispers, “Don't worry.”  
Then nearly a hundred ghosts burst from the floor, all wailing and moaning.  
The students scream in unison, leaping from their seats in terror. The ghosts sail every which way, chasing the children. Many brandish antique weapons, swishing them about. They phase through the tables and the plates, shouting things like, “You neglected us!” and “We will get our revenge!”  
A few of the first years wet themselves, and some fourth-years too. One of the boys at a Gryffindor table, Jayln Foster, isn't afraid. He looks straight at Charles, and they share a knowing look.  
“Did you do all of this?” Lea asks, as a deceased student from the Battle of Hogwarts shakes a broken wand in her face. She tries to stay brave.  
“I talked to each ghost in person at the end of last year,” Charles boasts. “They've been waiting all summer.”  
Slowly, the children catch on. The ghosts sink back into the floor.  
“Back to your seats, all of you!” Wittenshire commands. “They aren't normally like this, I assure you.”  
Charles just laughs, and he isn't the only one. Professor Gilly is chuckling too.

***

Charles is in his bed, wand out, practicing transfiguration. Before his eyes, his quill morphs into a chess rook. Before crumbling to ash, staining the blankets.  
Jayln, who's lying at the foot of his bed, cracks up. Even the cat, Lip, yeowls in mockery.  
“Shut up, Lip,” Charles says, “or you're next.”  
Lip curls up.  
“Have you even taken Transfiguration?” Jayln asks.  
“Shut up!” Charles moans.  
“How did you even get in here?” a boy asks Jayln. “You're Gryffindor.”  
“Well, how did Charles convince the ghosts to haunt all the students at dinner?” Jayln asks. “How did he smuggle his cat in here? You're looking at the king of mischief here.”  
Charles gives a short bow, then picks up a book. “Maybe you should clear out, Jayln.”  
“Are you really the one who did that?” another boy asks Charles. “With the ghosts? Because some kids were pretty pissed. Heely in particular. I heard she's been plotting against you.”  
“Rubbish,” Charles says.  
“Well, either way, be careful,” Jayln says, sneaking back to his dorm.  
“Thanks,” Charles says flatly.  
As the night goes on, everyone falls sound asleep. Charles still has the book on his chest.  
Outside the boys' dorm, Heely is standing with her wand out. She waves it in front of her face, muttering, “Faceum.” A beard sprouts at her chin, brown like her hair. A mustache follows. She grins like a crazy person and turns the doorknob. She enters the dorm.  
As she tiptoes, her eyebrows start growing at an alarming rate. “Shit.”  
“Wuzzat?” a sleeping boy moans.  
“Revelo,” she whispers, sweeping her wand like a search beacon. A faint glow comes from Charles' bed. She approaches it. “Caecia maxima,” she says. As she moves her wand about, Charles stirs in his sleep.  
“Heely!” a boy cries.  
Charles jolts awake, seeing her there. “How did you get in?” he cries.  
“This is for haunting us on my first day, you jerk!” Heely says.  
He puts his fists up as if to fight, only to see straight through them. “I'm invisible!” he shrieks.  
“No, you're transparent,” she says, “just like a ghost!”  
Most of the boys are awake now, and many start to laugh.  
Charles' face turns red.  
“Oh, shit,” she says as her facial hair shrinks away.  
“What?” he asks, voice cracking.  
“Well, it should have worn off by now.”  
The others laugh even more.  
“You lousy--!” He jumps out of bed. He chases her into the common room, where Lea is reading.  
Heely vaults over the couch, knocking the book from her hands. She lands on the other side, hiding.  
“I see you!” Charles shouts, fists clenched.  
“What's wrong?” Lea asks, pulling her hood up over her groggy eyes. She picks up her book, then gasps when she sees Charles. “You're transparent!”  
“Invisible,” he corrects.  
Heely pops out from the couch, “No, transparent.”  
“You shut up!” he roars.  
“We can fix you up,” Lea says. “Come with me.”  
Heely follows them. “Whose dove is that?”  
Neither answer her.  
They head down the professor's hall, and Lea knocks on one of the doors. “Professor, it's important!”  
Professor Gilly opens the door. He doesn't even flinch when he sees Charles, which drives him a little crazy. “Who cursed him?”  
Heely raises a guilty hand.  
Gilly sighs. Then he reaches into various pockets of the jacket that hangs in his closet.  
“I'm so sorry,” Heely says. “I cast the spell wrong.”  
“I expected more drama for a first night,” Gilly says. “Still, we Ravenclaws must think things through before taking action. That's one of the many things separating us from the Gryffindors.”  
“Can you hurry?” Charles asks, bouncing up and down.  
“That, and patience,” the professor says. He puts a smooth stone in each of the boy's hands. “Hold those tightly and put your right wrist overtop your left.”  
Charles obeys. Then, “What for?”  
“To reduce the stinging,” Heely mutters.  
“What? YEOW!”  
Gilly finishes the spell.  
Charles returns to normal. He hugs his arms around himself.  
“To bed with you,” Gilly says, stifling a coy smile. “All of you.” He shuts the door.  
“I had a feeling he could fix it,” Lea says.  
Charles stares at Heely, and the anger floods from his face. Eventually, he says, “You seem pretty knowledgeable about magic for a first-year.”  
Heely shrugs, still looking a little guilty.  
Then he holds his hand out to her. “You got me, fair and square. I wish I'd thought of that one myself.”  
Heely shakes his hand. “Really?”  
He nods. “You're all right, Heely. And you have a cool wolf.”  
“His name is Elton.”  
“I can introduce you to my cowardly cat.”  
“I think I saw her shivering in the corner. Hey, you're a girl. What's your name?”  
“Lea. It's nice to meet you. The dove is mine, by the way. His name is Hope. What do you say, tomorrow, we have breakfast together? We can compare class schedules.”  
Heely smiles. “I'd like that.”  
“Maybe Charles can even help you smuggle Elton into the dorms.”  
Charles' eyes widen.  
“I'll warn you,” Heely says, “Elton does not like cramped spaces.”

***

The first full day of the school year begins, with the paintings in the stairwell rolling over for an extra snooze. Heely runs up a staircase, only for it to swivel, pointing in the opposite direction. “F!” she yells. She pulls on the railing, but it doesn't budge.  
“Heely!” Charles yells from one of the higher stairs. He's bent over the railing, wand out. “Brace yourself! Ascendio!”  
Heely screams as she rockets into the air, sailing toward one of the staircases.  
“Aresto momentum!” Charles cries.  
She floats gently down. She gives Charles a wave, then keeps running. She makes it to the Charms classroom.  
A plethora of other first-years have already found their seats. There are two levels, with levitating books in place of spiral stairs. All the seats on the bottom level are taken, so she makes her way up the wobbly books.  
“Milly is happy to see you,” says an elf in overlong robes. “Er, I mean, I'm happy to see you.”  
Heely sits with a few Ravenclaws, sharing a smile with a cute first-year.  
“Forgive me,” Milly says. “I am a free elf. I have trouble undoing my broken English. Professor Milly is my name.” She waves a finger, and the letters appear in red smoke for all to see. “As Milly said, this is Charms class. There are a number of spells which are very useful, and learning them is crucial for any beginners. Take out your wands.”  
Milly apparates up to the top level, inspecting the students. She takes a wand from her suit pocket and demonstrates the hold, then apparates to the bottom.  
Heely lifts her acacia wand, holding it between sweaty fingers.  
“We will be practicing aguamenti,” Milly says. “This is to create a few drops of water.”  
Heely starts whispering the spell.  
“Well, at first,” Milly continues. “The harder you work, the more you can--”  
Water cascades from Heely's wand, washing over twelve students. They stand, shivering, wiping their eyes clear.  
Everyone else laughs, some pointing. Milly looks at Heely with eyes full of pity.  
Heely buries her face in her book.

***

“I know it's cramped in here,” Professor Dolwit says.  
Lea and Charles are shoulder to shoulder. Each pair of desks is more like a desk and a half. Two half-dead lamps struggle to illuminate the room.  
“Welcome to Muggle Studies,” Professor Dolwit continues. “Here, you'll learn about the goings on of the other world, the other side of the coin. Technology, a concept I will go into further detail on throughout the year, is evolving. I am qualified to teach you because I am, in fact, a muggle.” She straightens her pencil skirt and coughs nervously. “I know what you must be thinking. How did this come to be? Well, one day, a careless witch flew through my neighborhood, and no one bothered to obliviate me.” She chuckles.  
The room is silent.  
“Well, in any case, Muggle Studies is still a growing...er...study. Hence the small room. You should see my office. I mean, hopefully you won't. That would mean getting detention. I'll...I'll just move on to the first exhibition.”  
Charles doesn't have to lean far to whisper to Lea, “Do you think she's the first muggle teacher?”  
Lea simply shrugs, pulling the strings of her hood.  
Dolwit unveils an object sitting on the desk. “Let us attempt to identify this, as a class. Can anyone tell me what this is made of?”  
“Metal,” one student says.  
“Yes, yes. Very good. Any guesses as to its function? This will help break the object down into terms we can understand.”  
Charles raises his hand. “Its function is to heat up bread into toast,” he says flatly. “It's a toaster.”  
Dolwit tries not to look annoyed. “Er-Yes. Well done, Mr...?”  
“Charles.”  
“Well, Mr. Charles, I assume you are muggle born?”  
“I'm half-blood. One muggle parent.”  
“You are quite used to muggle artifacts, then.”  
Charles nods.  
“Excellent.”  
“I'm so cheating off you,” Lea whispers.

***

Charles shows up early to Defense Against Dark Creatures. He sits next to Jayln, saving the two spots behind him. A curious wardrobe sits in the corner of the room. Professor Gilly enters, with his usual coy smile, sipping from a flask. Charles frowns. “What's he doing here?” he whispers.  
Jayln shrugs.  
Lea sits with them, promptly opening her textbook. When she notices Gilly, she says, “Professor Wiles must be sick.”  
Gilly crosses to the large wardrobe and mutters a few spells.  
Charles fiddles with his wand until Heely arrives. He and Lea wave her over, but she sits at an empty table without making eye contact.  
“Have you thought of your next prank?” Lea whispers.  
“My, look who's talkative today,” he says. “If I don't space them out, it'll get boring.”  
“So you haven't thought of it, then?”  
“Nope.” He gives one last look to Heely before class starts.  
Gilly looks from the floating clock, to the students. “All right, my name is Professor Fron Gilly. I am a substitute here at Hogwarts. I was hoping Professor Wiles would be ready in time, but it looks like he has more healing to do. Dark creatures and all that.” He waves his wand, unceremoniously opening the wardrobe.  
Within, a great cat of some sort sleeps. It has the mane of a lion, the body of a leopard.  
“What you see before you is a Nundu. Centuries ago, a hundred or so witches and wizards were required to bring one down. Magic has evolved since then, as has the study of dark creatures. After a year in this class, you will have the knowledge and experience necessary to take one down all by yourself...and more. I have dispensed with the introductory chapters, purely because there is no risk of harm here. First of all, the beast is under a sleeping spell, quite a powerful one. This is a good first step in subduing any magical creature. The word somnumis, accompanied by thoughts of exhilaration and a slow sweep of the wand. After I tracked the Nundu down, this is how I first put it down. With a beast so strong, I had only seconds to act. Luckily, I knew the follow up spell. A crude charm discovered by Leo Dwalit, which alters the chemicals within the victim to make it more docile. I expect a paper on the methodology behind this, in accordance with your respective grade levels, by next Monday. Chapter three will have all you need. I followed up with a handful of other spells, which we will cover in later lessons. First and foremost, we will practice somnumis, the sleeping spell.”  
“Do you really think he took down a Nundu by himself?” Charles whispers.  
“No way,” Jayln scoffs.  
Gilly opens his briefcase, retrieving a metal object...a toaster. He goes row by row, each time reaching within the toaster and pulling out a frog. “Simple expansion charm,” he explains. “Now, each of these frogs is alive and well. I have simply frozen them. Third- and fourth-years will remember petrificus totalus. And, perhaps the reversal. Does anyone know the spell?”  
Heely mutters it, and the kid next to her shouts it. Heely stands, furious. “That's what I said! She stole it!”  
Charles covers his face, stifling a groan.  
Gilly walks quietly over to the girls.  
“But I knew it, Professor!” Heely says.  
“I don't doubt it, little one,” Gilly says. “There will be several chances to prove yourself. Everyone, on three, unfreeze your frog and put it to sleep before it can hop away.”  
The class ends too soon, it seems. As everyone is filing out, Charles tries to catch up to Heely. She almost makes it out the door before Gilly stops all three of them.  
“Heely, Charles, Lea.”  
“That'll be her last outburst, Professor,” Charles says.  
Heely glares at him.  
“I didn't ask you to stay for that,” Gilly says. “I wanted to invite you to partake in my after school group. It's called the Rabble of Ravenclaws. Plenty of students attend. I'm a substitute, so I don't have my own class, but I am quite knowledgeable about the world of magic. And, most importantly, its loopholes. You three strike me as the kind of brilliant Ravenclaws I'm seeking.”  
“We'd be honored,” Charles says.  
Even Heely looks interested.  
“We meet in the trophy room on the third floor,” Gilly says, “8 o'clock. I'll see you there.”

***

After his last class, Spells of Defense, Charles takes his time on the Grand Staircase, while Lea rushes back to start on homework. The stair comes to rest at an array of clown paintings. “I have a question,” he says.  
“Yes?” one clown asks. “Missing person?”  
“You guessed it. Heely.”  
“The girl with the big dog? I'll ask around. And hey, next time you go for a big prank, maybe try to include us paintings, eh?”  
“I'll try to remember that.”  
The staircase moves again, and he finds himself at eye-level with a painting of a cat. The clown moves through a few paintings, into the frame with the cat.  
“Any luck?” Charles asks.  
“Library.”  
Charles makes his way to the library. He searches a few of the private rooms before he finds Heely sitting at one of the tables. They're alone in the small room, and she has a newspaper spread out in front of her. A portable radio sits nearby, and a microphone dangles from thin air.  
She motions frantically for Charles to shh. Then she speaks into the microphone, “Coming to you live, this is Heely the Big Deal-y.”  
Charles rolls his eyes and sits across from her.  
“It's sunny outside, although it'll be dark soon enough. There's a lot of material to go through this week, but first and foremost, I have to give the next clue for the big prize. For your chance to win one of my mum's shiny necklaces, your next clue is the color blue. Now onto the news.” She reads from the paper with her finger. “There were quite a few deaths this past week, but only a few killings. Three days ago, a muggle in Hoakbrook was murdered. His name was Cletus Applebert. This is the first of interest, because after doing a little digging, I found some dirt on Applebert. He was arrested twice for buying and selling drigs.”  
“Drugs,” Charles whispers.  
“Drugs, that is,” she continues. “Exactly which specimens, I could not deduce. The charges my source relayed to me were not specific enough. This reminds me of another story from July, the tragic murder of Gilbert Horason, as I'm sure you'll all remember. He sold drugs too. Another commonality is their age, Applebert being 33 and Horason 32. Lastly, perhaps most important of all, their murders were unexplainable in terms of muggle medicine. This means a witch or wizard must be responsible. Whether it was the same killer or different remains to be seen. I will be discussing the likelihood of a copycat murder after this next song.” After clicking a button on the radio, she switches off her mic and lowers her headset. “What are you doing here?”  
“Heely the big deal-y?” Charles asks.  
“Shut up,” she mutters.  
“I had no idea you host a radio show. That's really cool.”  
She shrugs. “Almost nobody listens to it. I just investigate suspicious murders I read about in the paper. And other conspiracy theories.”  
“Do you take guest appearances?”  
“Maybe if you're lucky. So, uh...Sorry I didn't sit with you.”  
“It's all right. Seems like you had a rough day. I remember being a first-year.”  
“Oh yeah?” she says. “Did everyone laugh at you on your first day?”  
“Who laughed?”  
“Only my whole charms class. I wasn't even trying to cast the water spell, and my wand soaked two whole rows! Even a cute boy who smiled at me. It was humiliating. I knew I wouldn't fit in here.”  
“Hey, don't worry. I was really nervous my first day. Do you know what helped?”  
She sniffles. “What?”  
“I thought of a prank. It was my first one, and to this day, people still talk about it. And it was last year! It's how I got started as the king of mischief.”  
“What was it?”  
“I used the accio charm to steal a bunch of kids' journals while they were at dinner. Drove Tilda nearly mad searching for me. They get really serious when a kid is absent the first night. Anyway, once I had their diaries, I hid in the wall, amplified my voice, and read entries aloud to the whole school during dinner.”  
“Holy shit!”  
“I know, right? The kids I stole from still hate me, but everyone else was laughing along. It made the whole day about some big joke, instead of it being about me. So what I'm saying is, we need to get into some mischief tonight.”  
“Hm. I like the sound of that.”  
“We'll both think on it, then, and we'll share ideas at the Rabble.”  
“Deal.”

***

The trophy room is sizable. Professor Gilly laid out chairs, and most of them are filled when the trio arrives. They find three together. Charles notices some of the awards slowly rotating. “Keeper of the Year” “Most Spells Cast” “Ingenious Rank #1”  
“How did your radio show go?” Charles asks.  
“Not bad,” Heely says.  
“All right, Ravenclaws,” Gilly says. “This meeting is now in session. Walter, you're keeping notes? Right, then. It's a new semester. I know we didn't cover everything we set out to last year, so we'll be playing catch up. I really want to focus on alternative schools of thought as soon as we can. Remember that no essays are required, and all feedback is positive. No grades. This is just for learning.  
“First off, a little about why I started the group. Well, when I was a student, something bothered me and has bothered me since. Gryffindors get all the love in the wizarding community. Yes, it's true. Why deny it? Big quidditch athletes, world-saving wizards, headmasters for years and years...Gryffindors are heroes, right? They're bold enough to stand up to the villains of this world. Meanwhile, we quieter folk who think things through are left in the dust. If I asked a common wizard to name famous Gryffindors, the list would be endless. Famous Ravenclaws? Not so much. We are not so flamboyant, and our boldness is not as flashy as the brashness of Gryffindors. But listen closely, for I cannot stress this enough: There is something to be said for waiting and thinking, for looking before you leap. I started the Rabble of Ravenclaw to spread that message.  
“The famous people make all the big decisions for our world, and this leads to the tragic misuse of magical artifacts and substances. Take Felix Felicis, or by its more common name, Liquid Luck, for example. It has been said that with one gulp, all your endeavors will succeed. This is a lie instigated by the pigheaded Gryffindors everyone listens to. Am I, as a Ravenclaw, biased? Yes. But I do have much experience with Liquid Luck, as students from past years will know. I do very much appreciate all the concerned letters you lot write me about how much I drink. I know it to be a boosting substance that increases my confidence and sharpens my brain. I have used it as a tool for years to get ahead. I wear this jacket, with all its pockets, and in each one is a different magical bit or bob. It is my cleverness, my ability to think outside the box, that has made me the wizard I am today. I wish to pass that on to you in this club.”  
A clap starts up. Charles is a bit too dumbfounded to even blink.  
“Did you get all that, Walter?”  
Everyone laughs.  
“Our first lesson today,” Gilly continues, “is about memories. We wizards and witches, even those of us with the best memory retention, are subject to forget. Unless, that is, we use magic. They do not teach this in any class, but it is actually possible to extract memories from your mind and preserve them for future use. Observe.” He lifts his wand to his temple, and a wisp of blue leaks out. He sets it in a vial. He tosses it to Charles, who passes it along. “All I need do is hold this vial in my hand, and I will be able to see the memory as clear as day, for years to come. In the pasts, such power has been used to foil dark wizards and witches. However, a much more practical use, which few think about, is studying. Yes, I strongly encourage you to extract memories of your classes so you can look over them when exam day rolls around. Before I go into more detail, are there any questions?”  
Charles raises his hand. “Can you view other people's memories?”  
“An important question,” Gilly says. “It is possible, yes, but not with a pensieve. Anyone who has been to detention with the headmaster has seen the pensieve in her study. It looks like a bowl. One need only pour the memory into the bowl and dip your head into the water. Now, shall we practice?”  
Charles leans toward his two friends, saying, “I know what we're doing tonight.”

***

“Wait for it,” Charles whispers. He, Heely, and Lea are down the hall from the headmaster's study, watching the painting of a bodyguard. The guard shifts from foot to foot, restless.  
“I thought you had a plan,” Heely hisses.  
Just then, the clown from before steps into the frame, whispering something in the guard's ear. They both leave, and the frame is empty.  
Charles tugs them down the hall, into the study.  
“For a moment, I just wondered how much trouble we'd be in if--” Heely starts.  
“Not now,” Charles says. “Spread out.”  
“Over here,” Lea says, pointing to the pensieve.  
“Are you sure that's it?”  
She nods.  
“I feel better already,” Heely says.  
“I'll put mine in first,” Charles says.  
“Please make it a happy one,” Lea says.  
“I'll do the one I use for my patronus charm.”  
Heely's eyes bulge. “You can cast a patronus? Holy shit, Charlie!”  
“Expecto patronum,” he says, waving his wand. A shimmer of blue in the form of a turtle pours from his wand. The creature takes a few steps before it fizzles out.  
Heely crosses her arms and huffs, “I wanna learn that.”  
“Maybe later,” Lea says. “We'll get caught if we don't hurry!”  
Charles puts his wand to his temple and pictures the time he received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. He lets the memory follow his wand, then drops it into the pensieve.  
Heely is the first to dip her head in. Only a moment passes before she pulls back her head, completely dry. “That was crazy,” she says. “It was as if I was you. I was thinking your thoughts. I didn't know it meant that much to you.”  
Lea dips her head in. Almost immediately, she straightens out again. She shares a sweet smile with Charles, saying nothing.  
“My turn,” Heely says. She struggles a bit, but she finally gets the memory into the pensieve. “Enter at your own risk.”  
Lea goes first.  
“Well?” Heely asks.  
Charles, instead of waiting to hear, puts his head in the bowl. He feels his consciousness slip away, replaced with that of a stubborn, outspoken young girl with the mind of a witch twice her age. She's running down the stairs, heart thumping. She sees the presents under the tree. Charles lifts his head out.  
Lea has already performed the spell. She lowers her memory into the pensieve.  
Charles goes first. Again, his mind is replaced with another's. This time, he's Lea. She's embracing her older sister, whom she hasn't seen all year. She feels resentment wash away, filled with love instead.  
Charles steps back, trembling. Heely dips her head in and out. Then the first-year pulls them both into an awkward hug. “I will never forget this night.”  
“Um, guys, I think I hear the clown,” Charles says.  
They shove past each other to slip out the door. They make it to the end of the hall just as the guard returns.  
Charles smiles to himself. “Best first day ever.”


End file.
